(Credit: Tom Kogut Photography)
At work, there’s a pack of jackals following at my heels. They gobble up the remains of any business deal I make, and they’ll take any scrap I throw at them, but they never attempt to hunt a customer for themselves.
You might think that a successful businessman would like having a gang of admirers, and I would, but these jackals aren’t really admirers at all. They sneer their thanks, when they snatch a bone from me, and their hungry howls for more have often given me sleepless nights.
The worst thing though is when they go mad. Once in a while, one of them will go on a rampage and sabotage anyone who has even been close to a customer, even if they’re from their own pack, even if it hurts the whole firm. They even go for me sometimes. It is as if something in their brain snaps and tells them that if they cannot succeed, then no one should. Usually, they are put down by the higher ups before they can ruin anything major, but I get the jitters every time I receive a mail asking whether I really asked such and such to publish those tests or to tell the customer about those risks. I would pay millions for a vaccine for The Madness.
A Bolg? 